


Karaoke Can Get You Laid

by mssrj_335



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Bad Flirting, Bad Karaoke, Bartender Castiel, Bottom Dean, Dean is a doofus, M/M, Mechanic Dean, Side Sam/Jess - Freeform, Snippets, Top Castiel, bar conversations, i just wanted Dean to sing, light light angst, much more cheesy than anticipated, oh god it's so cheesy, sketchy writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-02 23:44:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8688205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mssrj_335/pseuds/mssrj_335
Summary: A bar may not be the best place to pick up a date--unless it's karaoke night!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Building....building.... it's been a while since I've written anything. hopefully this won't make your eyes bleed or anything. self-edited and posted yaaaaaay. second chapter will include all the good bits ;)

The first time Dean saw the guy, to say it was love at first sight might’ve been an overstatement.  It was probably more like lust at first sight.  He looked like he’d just rolled out of bed after a good round.  His shirt was tight in _all_ the right places, cuffed at the elbow to put his tattoos on display.  Even from the door, his silhouette looked downright sinful.

 

 _Jesus_.  

 

Sammy strode ahead of him and ordered for them both.  _Skyview Speakeasy_ seemed to live up to the speak easy part of it’s name. Dean took a seat at the quiet bar. Some hippie with silver hair was strumming the guitar quietly on stage and the patrons around him were _quietly_ talking.  In his opinion, the whole place was just too damn quiet.  It was no wonder Sam liked it; seemed nerdy enough for him.  But as Dean stared at the bartender, he’d figured why there was a large crowd of _young_ people at the place.  

 

“So, what d’you think?” Sam smirked, setting down two brightly colored drinks.  

 

Dean took a sip from his glass, barely tasting the coconut and pineapple, and didn’t take his eyes off the bartender.  “Yeah, it’s—it’s great, Sammy.”

 

Sam’s smirk only widened and he waved a hand in front of Dean’s face.

 

“Hey, we’re here to admire _my_ eye candy, remember?”

 

Dean blinked quickly and cleared his throat.  “Sure…whatever.”

 

When he actually looked at his little brother, Dean couldn’t help a sappy smile from creeping in.  

 

Sam was smiling ear to ear, nearly bouncing in his seat like a happy little puppy.  Dean hadn’t ever met this _eye candy_ before, but he figured if she made Sammy this happy, then she couldn’t be so bad.  _Would’ve been nice to meet her_ before _the proposal_.

 

He sipped his drink a little bitterly.  It wasn’t like he’d been unreachable.  After Sam left for school, Dean stayed put in Kansas, dealing with the fallout of his younger brother’s departure in the only way he knew.  He threw himself into his work, fixing car after car like some sort of sad replacement for his inability to make his brother and father work.  He took care of John, making sure he ate, worked, and didn’t drink too much.  He got letters from Sam.  But never a phone call, never a visit.  

 

Until now, at least.

 

Dean took another gulp of his drink and drained it.  On some level though, he understood.  The old man was about as stable as a stick of dynamite and this new life Sam had made for himself was the equivalent of a lit match.

 

Sam’s last letter had promised big news and an invitation to California.  After four years, it was almost graduation time. Dean had a chance to bring his brother back into his life and he wasn’t about to throw it away.  He might not have been able to convince his father to come, but that didn’t stop him from taking well-earned vacation time and traveling west.

 

At last, it was time.  Sam’s girl strode out onto the stage, guitar in hand.  

 

“Hi everyone, I’m Jess,” she said sweetly.  Sam cheered loudly and Dean clapped.  “I’m gonna play a little for you tonight.”

 

Jesus, Sammy had struck gold.  Jess was gorgeous, all long legs and pretty blond hair.  And she played alright, too.  It was a rendition of _Don’t You (Forget About Me)_ , sweet and simple.  It wasn’t high octane like he liked but it wouldn’t have really fit the mood.  Her voice was pleasant and it was enough to keep Sammy spellbound.  After her first song, Sam drained his glass and moved up without a word, taking a seat next to their friends as close to the stage as he could find.  

 

Dean scoffed softly and smiled.  He turned back to order another drink.  Surprisingly, the bartender was watching Jess and Sam with a small smile himself, wiping a glass down and tapping his foot as the second song started.  Dean caught his attention and felt his mouth dry up as the bartender walked his way.  

 

Jess’ song faded into the background.  The nametag read _Castiel_ and Dean put on his most charming smile.  

 

“D’you know Sammy?” Dean asked.  

 

Castiel raised an eyebrow and shook his head.  _Smooth, Winchester.  Smooth move_.  Dean cleared his throat.

 

“I mean, I saw ya smilin’, thought you might’ve.  Refill?” He shook his glass.

 

Castiel’s expression softened and he pulled out a clean glass.  “No, I have not made their formal acquaintance, though I’ve served them often.  But, love is enough to make a man smile, isn’t it?”

 

Dean tilted his head as took a gulp of the drink Castiel sat in front of him.  Dude had a strange, stilted way of talking, for sure, but it was kind of charming.  

 

“Yeah, guess it is.”

 

Castiel glanced down the bar but didn’t make any indication that he might walk away.  So, Dean dove in.

 

“You worked here long?” 

 

“You might say I’ve been here longer than the bar itself.”

 

Dean’s smile turned quizzical.  “Oh, yeah?”

 

“I own it.”

 

He huffed an incredulous laugh.  “Wow.  Mr. Achievement over here,” he murmured.  He took a quick look again, looking with a more critical eye. “It’s a nice place.”

 

It was dim, but Dean could’ve sworn Castiel’s ears pinked slightly.  

 

“Much obliged, Mr. …”

 

“Winchester,” he replied, holding his hand out.  “Call me Dean.”

 

Castiel’s smile was small but it seemed sincere.  And, for looking like a pretty boy, his handshake was nothing to scoff at.  The touch tingled on his hand as Dean took another drink.

 

“What brings you here?” Castiel asked.

 

Dean winked.  “Oh, now that’s the surprise of the evening!” he declared.  “Big, big news is comin’ down, Cas.”

 

Castiel raised an eyebrow again, though at the statement or the nickname, Dean wasn’t sure.  

 

“Then an easier question,” he continued. “Where are you from?”

 

Dean smiled again.  “Kansas, born and bred.” At Castiel’s inquiring look, he said, “My baby brother goes to school here.  Stanford.”

 

Castiel’s mouth formed a very distracting, surprised ‘O’.  “You must be quite proud of him.”

 

“You can bet on it,” Dean drawled. “It’s the first time anyone in our family’s really made something of themselves.”

 

“That doesn’t seem like a fair assessment on your part,” Cas said absently, wiping the bar down.  Dean frowned.  “I meant, surely your pride gives you a little bias?”

 

Dean’s expression relaxed.  That wasn’t really a road he wanted to go down tonight but Cas didn't mean any harm by it, he was sure.  “When a family of mechanics manages to get a son into Stanford Law, it’s counted as a pretty big success.”

 

Castiel shrugged, acquiescent.  “I’ve always found mechanics to be fascinating,” he murmured, eyes low.

 

Dean’s drink paused halfway to his mouth at the comment then, his ears perked up as Jess finished her last song.

 

“Show time,” Dean declared, wagging his eyebrows and draining the rest of his drink.

 

Castiel cocked his head curiously as Dean turned on his barstool and motioned to the stage.  He clapped as Jess bowed to quiet applause. 

 

“Are you up next?” Cas asked sheepishly.  "I'm never sure who's doing what on that stage."

 

Dean scoffed.  “Nah, I’m more of a karaoke guy myself.”

 

Castiel laughed quietly as the applause died down.

 

“Thank you!” Jess called. “Thank you very much!  Everyone give a hand to Speakeasy’s owner, Mr. Novak!” 

 

Jess waved from the stage and Castiel inclined his head.  She bowed one last time and began to gather her things when Sam clambered onstage.  

 

“Here goes,” Dean whispered.  

 

“Here goes what?” Castiel asked, leaning forward next to him.

 

“Possibly the biggest day of my brother’s life,” Dean replied softly.

 

Castiel opened his mouth to respond but Dean flapped a hand at him.  Sam stooped low to the microphone and cleared his throat.  Dean held his breath and Jess paused, giggling at Sam’s silly posture.

 

“Um, I have an announcement, if I could have just a minute.”

 

Dean could faintly hear Jess ask what he was doing and he sat forward when Sam let out a shaky breath.

 

“I, uh, I know not everyone here knows us, but this has been our favorite bar since we started school four years ago,” Sam started, fidgeting with something in his pocket.

 

 _Good god,_ Dean thought _, please don’t let that boy screw this up_.

 

“An-and, we’re going to graduate in May!”  He paused, laughing at the cheers from the audience and from the loudest cheer—Dean.  “I figure after that, I’ve only got a few big accomplishments left to make in my life,” he continued.  “There’s one that’s been on my mind a lot.  And I mean _a lot_.  I figure it’s the biggest leap I’ll ever take.”

 

Finally, he managed to pull the box out of his pocket.  Jess glanced down and her jaw dropped slightly.  

 

Sam, still stooped over the microphone, turned his body toward her and started talking to her, just to her.  

 

“Jess, we made it.  We’ll graduate and that part of the story will be over.  An-and I wanna make sure you’re in every chapter of my book from here on out so, so would you—”

 

The crowd—and Jess—audibly gasped when Sam opened the little blue box and got on one knee, offering the ring Dean had helped him pick.  Jess’ hands flew over her mouth and pretty tears pricked the corner of her eyes before she screamed, “ _Yes!_ ” and tackled Sam to the floor in a hug.

 

Dean’s eyes watered and he cheered as loud as he could.  Behind him, Castiel clapped politely and smiled.  Dean grinned, ridiculously pleased at his response.  

 

When Sam and Jess finally made it off the stage and back to the bar, they were giddy and giggly and it kind of made Dean want to throw up.  But in a good way.  Castiel quietly slid away down the bar, slipping out of notice.  Dean’s chest swelled with pride for his baby brother and he knew what came next.

 

“Hey, good on ya!” Dean cheered, throwing an arm around Sam’s shoulders.

 

Sam laughed and graciously introduced Dean to Jess but Sammy was smiling so hard it looked like his face might break.  So was Jess.  Dean glanced between them, at their intertwined hands and burning eyes.  Yep, there it was.

 

“Why don’t you two head back to your place?  I’ll hang out here for a few hours,” he offered.  “I’m sure Cas’ll keep me company, right Cas?”

 

Castiel tilted a head in his direction, focusing on pouring a drink.

 

“Dean—” Sam started.

 

Dean cut him off with a wave of his hand and motioned them out the door.  “Goooo,” he drawled. “Put a sock on the door and have a good time.”

 

“ _Dean—_ ”

 

“Get outta here,” he ordered, “before I change my mind!  I’ll come and crash later.”

 

Jess was less inclined to feel guilty and pulled Sam toward the door.  Dean figured he could get a proper introduction in the morning.  It wasn’t like their couch was going anywhere and Dean was more interested in making nice with Cas than listening to his brother knock boots on proposal night.

 

Speaking of Cas, the bartender sauntered back down the row and refilled Dean’s drink.  It wasn’t as if Wednesday was a particularly busy night, but he was still pleased that Cas thought he might be good company.

 

Or he was fishing for a good tip.  Either way, Dean didn’t mind all that much.  Eye candy, after all. 

 

“So, Cas,” he asked as his drink was refilled, “know anything about cars?”

 

* * *

 

The next night, Jess threw a party.  Dean was polite enough to stay for the first hour, then he felt the need to escape.  Too many people and too much old money floated in the small apartment.  Dean wasn’t sure how Sam dealt with it day to day.  Pompous bastards.  He had to admit Jess was a breath of fresh air in the midst of them but it wasn’t quite enough.

 

“I’m gonna check out for a while, Sammy.”

 

Sam cocked his head then dropped his shoulders as Dean piled on his coat, hat, and the scarf Jess had made for him.  “Dean, they’re not gonna bite, you know.”

 

Dean sighed under his breath and pasted a smile on his face.  “I know, but rubbin’ elbows with the upper crust is a little beyond my skill set.  Let me under the hood of their car and I’ll be right as rain.”

 

Sam scoffed softly but returned his smile.  “Don’t stay out too late, man.  It’ll get cold.”

 

Dean gave him a cocky smile.  “Maybe I’ll find someone to keep me toasty.”

 

Sam rolled his eyes and shoved him.  “Be safe, jerk.”

 

“Later, bitch.” Dean saluted sloppily and shut the door behind him.

 

He strode listlessly down the street for a few minutes.  What now?  Escape attained, the cold ushered him on.  He wasn’t really familiar with the area but there was one place he knew he’d be happy to go.  

 

He arrived at _Skyview Speakeasy_ with a slight smile and pink cheeks.  Cas was standing behind the bar, his back to the door and the help milling around filling orders.

 

“Heya, Cas,” Dean called, sliding onto a barstool.

 

Cas looked over his shoulder in surprise.  “Hello, Dean,” he replied.  “I didn’t expect you back so soon.”

 

“Bah, Jess is throwin’ a party.”

 

“Not your type of party, I take it?” Castiel smirked, setting a glass in front of him.

 

Dean looked at the suspicious purple liquid before swirling it around and knocking it back.  It faintly tasted something like sugar plums but it burned pleasantly in his gut like hard liquor.  A warm sensation started creeping into his cheeks and Dean smiled.  

 

“Nah, my kinda party involves more loud music and less chatting.”

 

“I admit,” Castiel chuckled, “I am interested to know what you consider loud music.”

 

“Aw, man, classics!  Good old stuff!”

 

Cas poured him another drink.  “I don’t suppose you mean Toto?” he asked with a sly smile.

 

Dean nearly coughed up his drink.  

 

“Guilty pleasure,” Castiel confessed, raising his hands in defense when Dean shot him an incredulous look.

 

Dean tossed back the next drink and crossed his arms on the bar in front of him.  “Yeah?”

 

“Yeah,” Cas echoed.  “ _Rosanna_ has been known to make an appearance on nights where no one is playing live.”  He leaned across the bar next to Dean.

 

“We need to get you some Queen, man, some good ole Zeppelin. Make a convert outta ya.”

 

“Mm,” Cas murmured noncommittally, holding his eyes for a moment too long.

 

Dean couldn’t help but notice the proximity; he’d played the game long enough.  Far enough to be considered professional, close enough to be considered interest.  Dean tilted his head back, intrigued.

 

“So, where’d we leave off yesterday?” Dean asked, mouth dry.

 

“I believe you were explaining the performance benefits of a particular 1967 Chevy Impala.”

 

God, did Dean love a man interested in what interests him.

 

* * *

 

Night three was supposed to be a quiet dinner in.  Dean cooked—he loved to cook—but it was nothing fancy.  It was home cooking that he was sure Sam hadn’t had in years and Jess had never tried.  

 

He considered it a rousing success.  Jess went back for seconds and Sam smiled that little sincere smile that only came up when he was well and truly happy.  Later, when the dishes were done and the kitchen cleaned, Sam and Jess settled on the couch for a movie.

 

“C’mon, Dean!” Jess pleaded.  “Surely you haven’t seen this!  We’d love to have you stay for it!  How will you and Sam argue about it if you don’t watch it?”

 

Dean laughed softly and wrapped himself up again.  “Hey, trust me,” he replied, “it’s better when we don’t argue, ain’t it, Sammy?”

 

Sam scoffed and threw an arm around Jess’ shoulders.  “Sure, Dean.  Just don’t stay out too late.”

 

“Dean,” Jess called.  His foot was halfway out the door but he paused and quirked an eyebrow.  “We really do like having you here,” Jess said softly.  “You’re family.  Don’t be too distant.”

 

Dean smiled half-heartedly and nodded.  Then, he strode out the door and back down to the bar.

 

It wasn’t as though he was unhappy with them.  He was incredibly happy _for_ them, no questions asked!  But their soft, intimate moments of domesticity had a tendency to make him feel like an intruder.  He knew he was welcome in his brother’s home but he felt like an outsider all the same.  There was really only a few places where he felt right at home and a bar was one of them. 

 

It just so happened that _this_ bar had a very attractive barkeep that made it worth his while to come back.

 

“Heya, Cas,” he said with a smile, sliding onto his regular barstool.

 

“Nice to see you again, Dean,” Cas said with a warm smile.  “What’ll you have tonight?”

 

Dean quirked an eyebrow.  “Innit usually up to you?”

 

Castiel chuckled.  “I thought maybe you’d gotten tired of surprises.”

 

“Never,” he grinned.

 

Tonight’s drink was the color of honey and tasted like cherries.  Cas set the bottle on the bar.  It didn’t burn but it went straight to his head.  Or maybe that was just Castiel’s smile.

 

“What’s on the agenda for tonight?” Cas asked, shaking loose the thought.

 

“I, uh, thought you might could tell me more about you,” Dean stuttered.

 

Castiel’s smile widened just as it turned shy.  “You know that’s not usually now this works, right?”  Dean cocked his head.  “The bartender asks the question, the patron spills?”

 

Dean grabbed the bottle and motioned for a glass.  With one quick dash, he poured Castiel a brimming drink, put his chin on his fist, and struck a silly, serious face.

 

“So, where you from?”

 

Castiel threw his head back with a deep belly laugh.  Dean smiled triumphantly and knocked back his drink.  It wasn’t much but he considered it another small victory.  Cas took the drink in hand and held Dean’s eyes.

 

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” he muttered, taking a delicate sip of his drink.

 

Dean's glance slipped down for a moment and he wet his lips.  “Try me.”

 

Castiel smirked.  “Try Russia.”  Then, he downed the rest of his drink in one and motioned for another.

 

Dean raised his eyebrows and filled his glass, oblivious to the hustle and bustle of patrons and help around him.

 

“So…Russia?”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this. is. ridiculous. if you don't laugh, i've failed you. also a little explicit but eyy. also also, for the love of god, listen to rosanna by toto to get the full effect here
> 
> self-edited and slightly terrible

Castiel was beginning to get restless. 

 

The bar Castiel owned was nice, but it wasn’t upscale.  It was private, but not exclusive.  It _certainly_ wasn’t the kind of bar where patrons left twenty dollar tips on two dollar drinks.  But Dean Winchester—tipper extraordinaire—had been in his bar every night for the last three nights, jovial in a quiet sort of way in every arrival.  In fact, he looked like a grinning model for Cabela’s, which pushed all sorts of Castiel’s buttons.  

 

Teasing, pleasant, charming…  

 

It made Castiel itch for more.

 

He kept an eye out for Dean and felt a little tingle of pleasure when he finally walked in. But, there was no smile, no smooth line or conversation starter. Something was definitely off. 

 

“Heya, Cas,” Dean sighed as he ran a hand down his face.

 

Castiel’s brow furrowed and he pulled a glass and a bottle of bourbon down from the wall behind him.  Dean slid onto his barstool but didn’t bother to shake off the cold or take off his coat.

 

“Something troubling you?”

 

Dean watched as the glass filled but didn't look up when it was full. "Yeah," he muttered, "you might say that.”

 

Castiel frowned when Dean swallowed the whole of it and motioned for another.  He didn’t refuse but it was a little concerning.  All evidence so far said that Dean Winchester was a happy man.  He’d frequently expressed his pleasure with the bar, with his brother and his life.  Maybe there was something he missed?

 

Castiel internally rolled his eyes at himself.  _Of course_ there was something missing.  People didn’t tell strangers the whole of it, not even bartenders.  But something in Dean’s expression made him want to dig for more.

 

Cas pursed his lips.  “What happened, then?  Out with it.”

 

Dean looked surprised for a moment but he sipped his drink this time, slowly forming the words.  “It…it was just a fight.  A stupid fight but not one that I ain’t had before.”  Castiel leaned forward and nodded encouragingly.  “Just rehashing the same ole same with baby brother dearest.”

 

Castiel made a noncommittal noise and refilled Dean’s drink.

 

“I mean—” Dean took another swallow. “—is it too much to ask for him to come home?  I know things got rough with the old man but what about the rest of us?”  Castiel cocked his head.  “Did he never think about what leavin’ might mean for his family?” Dean spat.

 

Then, he sighed.  It seemed, despite the venom in his voice, it wasn’t what he wanted to dwell over.  Castiel put the bottle back on the shelf and laid a gentle had on Dean’s arm.  The movement wasn’t much but Dean looked like he’d been shocked.  He didn’t pull away but stared for a moment, lips slightly parted. 

 

“I can’t offer you much comfort,” Castiel said softly, rubbing a thumb over his arm, “except to say not to dwell on the past.”  Dean made a face but unconsciously moved closer.  “Your brother is getting married, to a wonderful woman from what you’ve said.  Better to forgive and try to forget, yeah?”

 

Castiel straightened and some of Dean’s playful smile crept back onto his face.

 

“Why don’t you go _talk to your brother_?  Come back later?”

 

Dean scoffed lightly.  Indecision fluttered in his eyes for a brief second, then he finished his drink and rose from his stool.  “Not sure talkin’s gonna do much good but I’ll give it a shot.”  He enveloped Castiel’s hand in a lingering handshake and his smiled warmed.  “Thanks, Cas.”

 

* * *

 

Dean didn’t come back the same night and Castiel found himself more than a little disappointed.  But, tonight was the last night for business before the bar’s weekend and, it was Sunday.  It would be slow and the performances would be entertaining.  He could go home after, ooze into a hot shower, and put it all out of his mind.

 

It was 9:00 when his favorite patron sauntered up to the bar.  Though he hadn’t dared to hope, Castiel’s stomach fluttered as he stared.  _What a walk_.  Dean oozed confidence with every step and several took notice but Dean’s eyes seemed only for him.  

 

“Unfortunately,” Dean said softly, an easy smirk on his face, “you were right.”

 

“Things worked out well with Sam, then?”

 

“Yeah, don’t rub it in,” Dean snarked, scooting gracelessly onto the barstool. “Your chick-flick advice did the trick.”

 

Castiel returned his grin.  “When will you learn the bartender is always right?” 

 

“Smartass.”  

 

Castiel pretended to preen and poured him a shot.  Privately, he was more happy than he should be to see the smile back on Dean’s face.  It made his eyes crinkled at the corners and dimples appear on his scruffy cheeks.  Castiel eyes moved reluctantly as last performer left the stage to drunken cheers and scattered applause.  Dean tossed his head in the direction of the stage.  “What’s on for the show tonight?”

 

“Karaoke,” Castiel sighed fallaciously. “It’s murder on the eardrums.”

 

Dean grinned and emptied his glass.  “C’mon,” he jibed, “you love it.”

 

Cas chuckled to himself.  “I have to say,” he said, “it’s a far more interesting night than most.”

 

Dean hummed and turned to watch the next singer.  She was probably more drunk than the first but the extra liquid lubrication seemed to make it easier for her to belt some off-key Journey.  Dean, by the end, finished a third drink.

 

“You ever think of gettin’ up there?” he asked nonchalantly.

 

“I’ve done my time,” Castiel laughed, “I don’t think anyone needs be subjected to that again.”

 

“Aw, c’mooon.  Karaoke can get you laid!”

 

Cas saw a little twinkle in Dean’s eye and squinted suspiciously.  “I can faithfully report it’s never worked for me.  I’d wager it’s worked for few others.”

 

Dean swallowed down the last of a fourth drink and brazenly looked him up and down.  Castiel felt his ears turn pink but he’d be lying if he said the interest didn’t catch him.  

 

“I’ll take that bet,” Dean declared.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“I’ll prove it works.”

 

“And how,” Castiel snorted, “would you do that?”

 

“I’ll sing a song.  If you hate it, I’ll head out.  But—” He paused, popping the top button of his shirt and spreading his hands wide to draw Castiel’s eye. “—if you love it, I go home with _you_.”

 

The heat in Castiel’s ears spread to his cheeks and, for a moment, Dean’s confidence wavered.  Then, “You’re on.”

 

Dean grinned ear to ear and winked.  Cas shook his head but he couldn’t keep the silly smile from his face.

 

The chatter in the bar grew bit by bit as Dean mounted the stage.  A few girls catcalled as Dean set the karaoke machine and a very, _very_ familiar drum intro played loudly over the speakers.

 

“If this gets stuck in your head for days,” Dean drawled, grabbing the microphone stand and holding it close, “thank your bartender.”

 

Dean tapped foot and shook his shoulders as he started the _cheesiest_ rendition of the song that Castiel had _ever_ seen.

 

“ _All I want to do when I wake up in the morning is see your eyes,_

 _Rosanna, Rosanna!_ ”  Dean held onto the mic with one hand and raised his hand to point at Cas. “ _I never thought that a girl like you could ever care for me, Rosannaaaaa!_ ”

 

He tucked the stand between his legs and put a foot up on the amp.  _“All I want to do in the middle of the evening is hold you tight, Rosanna, Rosanna!_ _I didn't know you were looking for more than I could ever beeee!”_

 

Castiel groaned and buried his face in his hand.

 

 _“Not quite a year since she went away, Rosanna yeah!”_   Cas saw Dean’s hips start to sway from behind his fingers. “ _Now she's gone and I have to say—”_ Dean’s head viciously bobbed as the chords slammed and he air-drummed into the next chorus.

 

 _“Meet you all the way, meet you all the way, Rosanna—”_ Oh Christ, his hips were rolling. “ _Meet you all the way, meet you all the way, Rosanna yeah!”_

 

Dean’s foot dropped to the floor and he danced— _badly_ —to the other side of the small stage. “ _I can see your face still shining through the window on the other side, Rosanna, Rosanna. I didn't know that a girl like you could make me feel so saaaad, Rosannaaaa_!”

 

Girls cheered him on but Dean caught Castiel’s eye and held him. “ _All I want to tell you is now you'll never ever have to compromise, Rosanna, Rosanna! I never thought that losing you could ever hurt so baaaaad_!”

 

Castiel’s mouth dried out. “ _Not quite a year since she went away, Rosanna, yeah! Now she's gone and I have to say—_ ”

 

At first, Cas tried to stifle the giggles when Dean started headbanging—“ _Meet you all the way, meet you all the way, meet you all the way, Rosannaaaa!”—_ and strutting to the electric organ and air-playing the guitar solo, but it—

 

Wasn’t.  

 

Working.  

 

The man was a madman!  He pulled the mic from the stand and dropped to his knees.

 

“ _Not quite a year since she went away, Who is it? Rosanna yeah_!” He shuffled forward. “ _Now she's gone and I have to say—”_

 

Now, he was just being obscene.  He danced and swiveled his hips in a way that should’ve **never** left the bedroom before he got tangled in the mic cord!

 

 _“Meet you all the way, meet you all the way, Rosannaaa._ ” He tried to straighten the cord and failed.  Nearly fell flat on his face. “ _Meet you all the way, meet you all the way, Rosanna yeah!_ ”

 

At last, he freed himself and air-guitared to cheers off the stage.  When he slid back onto his barstool, a cocky grin on his face, he asked, “So I win, right?”

 

Castiel managed to keep a straight face and looked him up and down, as if considering.  Dean’s smile faltered a little, but when Cas thought he’d sweated enough, he called to the barback, “I’m out early!”

 

* * *

 

Dean nearly vibrated in the comfy seat of Cas’ car on the short drive out.    After five days of buildup and talking himself in and out of it, finally.  

 

 _Finally_.  

 

He had the presence of mind to send a short text so Sam wouldn’t blow a fuse that simply said:

 

_Don’t wait up :P_

 

He didn’t bother to read the reply because Castiel was tugging his hand and pulling him up the stairs.  

 

The door to the apartment shut with a slam.  Castiel’s hands were immediately up his shirt but Dean yelped and wriggled away like a cat in a bath.  Castiel looked concerned until Dean pulled his hands away, kissed each fingertip and said, “ _Cold_.”

 

Castiel chuckled and wrapped his arms around Dean, taking two handfuls of asscheek instead.  Dean groaned as Cas walked him forward, stripping articles of clothing along the way.  The air in the apartment was frigid but Dean’s fingers said Cas was _warm_.  

 

“You—” Castiel sucked a mark into his neck. “—are the cheesiest—” He pulled Dean’s undershirt over his head. “—most _ridiculous_ man.”

 

“Hey,” Dean replied, unzipping Castiel’s jeans, “the best kinda guy is the one who makes you laugh, right?”

 

Cas rolled his eyes but he smiled.  “Fair point.”

 

Behind him, the bedroom door creaked open.  Castiel pulled away long enough to divest Dean of the rest of his clothing and turn on the heat.  His haste was thwarted when Dean knelt, slowly easing his jean’s from his hips until they pooled on the floor.  

 

Dean kissed up each thigh and his mouth ghosted hot over Castiel clothed cock until blunt fingers took tight hold in his hair.  Dean looked up, playing up his best bedroom eyes.  “You’re a little impatient, aren’t you?”

 

Castiel exhaled in a long-suffering sigh when Dean mouthed his cock through his boxers.  “You _have_ been a tease for the last five days, you know.”

 

Dean smirked from his position on the floor and pulled Castiel’s underwear to the floor.  “Yeah?” he asked, voice rough. 

 

Castiel pulled him up and ground his hips into Dean’s to make his point.  The height difference was enough to tilt his head back, but Cas didn’t mind.  He tangled his tongue with Dean’s for a moment.  Then, he spun.  He pushed Dean until the backs of his knees hit the bed, and he flopped gracelessly onto the down comforter.  

 

Castiel didn’t suppress a laugh at Dean’s indignant expression while he fished some lube out of the side table drawer.  He was rewarded with a sharp tug and a sharper bite.  This time, Dean chuckled, Castiel’s nipple still caught between his teeth.

 

He shuffled up, framing himself with Castiel’s arms and spreading hot kisses down his neck.  

 

“I had pickup lines too, you know,” Dean murmured into his skin, “in case the karaoke flopped.”

 

Castiel snorted then groaned when Dean’s hand slipped low and started a long, slow pull on his member.

 

“Do I _want_ to hear them?” he retorted, eyelids fluttering.

 

“Ya got 206 bones in you; want one more?”

 

Cas buried his face in the comforter and groaned, from the horrible line _and_ Dean’s hand.

 

“You— _jesus._ ”  His hand fumbled with the lube lid when Dean pressed their bodies together and took both cocks in his hand.

 

“Fuck me if I’m wrong, but is your name Steve?” Dean laughed breathlessly, covering his fingers with lube and pulling them faster.

 

Castiel half laughed, half moaned and bit Dean’s shoulder for revenge.

 

“Hello, I’m bisexual; I wanna buy a drink and get sexual.”

 

At that, Cas lost it.  He hid his face in Dean’s chest and _laughed_.  Had anyone ever made him belly-laugh during sex?  No.  Was it slightly annoying?  Yes.  Was it pulling him further from lust and into affection?  Absolutely.

 

He could feel Dean’s smile curve into his shoulder and his hand stopped moving.  Castiel giggled to himself for a few moments more then, Dean asked, “So, you gonna meet me _all the way_?”

 

Castiel snickered again and smacked Dean’s chest.  “If you’re quite finished,” Cas retorted, repositioning his hips, “I’d like to finish.”

 

This time, Dean snorted.  He kissed Castiel’s lips in apology and soothed his hands down Castiel’s back.  Cas' stomach fluttered at Dean’s tender touch.

 

Oh, what a night this would be.

 

* * *

 

When Dean woke in the morning, it was to the feeling of a soft bed and softer hair against his cheek.  Cas was still snoozing, curled comfortably against his stomach.  

 

Dean kissed the back of his neck; a smile wrinkled his nose when Cas groaned and shoved his head under the pillows.  

 

“Mornin’ grouchy,” Dean cooed, “want some coffee?”

 

Castiel didn’t make any intelligible noise, but Dean took it as a yes.  He stretched against his bedmate before rolling out and pulling his underwear on.  He slipped into his flannel shirt but left it unbuttoned, too lazy to do more.

 

After a few minutes of fiddling and a few more of brewing, Castiel lumbered out of the bedroom and plopped down at the kitchen table, thoroughly wrapped in his blanket.  

 

“Cups?”

 

Cas motioned to the cabinet behind him

 

“Cream?”

 

Cas shook his head.

 

“Communication?”

 

Finally, Castiel cracked a smile.  “Sorry,” he muttered, “I’m not much of a morning person.”

 

Dean grinned softly and set a cup in from of him.  He fiddled for a moment with his coffee, then chanced a glance at Cas.  The man looked kinda like an angel, all wrapped in white, shining in the morning sun like that.  Dean bit his lip and took a deep breath in and out.  _Why was this so much harder?_

 

“So,” he started, “I’ll only be in town a few more days.”  Cas glanced at him, a frown wrinkling his handsome face. “But I’d love…to take you to breakfast?  And maybe dinner tomorrow, just you ’n me?”

 

A silky smile spread on Castiel’s face.  He took a sip of his coffee and settled happily into his blanket.

 

“I’d like that.”

 

* * *

_Fin_

 


End file.
